


Five Years

by sobefarrington



Category: Firefly
Genre: Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-12-27 22:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/984109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sobefarrington/pseuds/sobefarrington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sometimes anniversaries are tragic.<br/>today is one that Zoe can't handle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Years

Mal finished the story and closed the book. He rested the thin electronic reading device on his lap, the cover for The Battle Of Serenity appearing briefly before the machine turned itself off. He stared at the child before him.

A vibrant young boy of four and two thirds, full of curious energy and a thirst for more knowledge than anyone could give him. He was creative beyond his years and enjoyed the question ‘Why?´ to the point that it once brought Jayne to tears. 

He’s been told stories of the Earth That Was, tales of Reavers and The Alliance described to him in a way that made him believe they were equally evil and frightening. Stories of juggling geese and how the dinosaurs once roamed the Earth That Was and how they became extinct. Kaylee had explained how the ship operated on love when he asked what kept them flying and he seemed to have a better understanding of River than even Simon sometimes.

The child’s green eyes glistened with the sleep that was to come as he looked up to his captain.

“Did that really happen?”

“Course it did. When have you known a storybook to lie. Never mind that, when have I ever lied to you. Name me one time.”

“River says the Captain lies all the time.”

“River’s noodle is a little starchy my young man. You just never mind what she says.”

The child rubbed his eyes with hast, always amazed by the fireworks that he produced behind his lids. Mal smiled when the boy kept them closed long after his hands dropped back towards the blankets.

The Captain stood and the child opened his peepers at the change in shadows in the room. He looked up towards Mal.

“Will you tell me stories again tomorrow Captain, my favorite one.”

Mal’s heart broke, but he refused to let it show. The boy’s favorite story, the tale about a pilot who sacrificed his life for truth and justice. A story about bringing the signal to the world. A story about how the Reavers came to be. It was a dark spot on humanity in general, but a shining moment for the boy, and the father he’d never know.

“Only if you close your peepers and get to sleep tonight. We’ve got a long flight sail back to Shadow.”

The boy wriggled himself deeper into his space cowboy sheets and closed his eyes tight. Mal kissed the boy’s forehead for his mother and left the book on a shelf as he exited the room.

He found Zoe on the bridge, sitting alone in the darkness watching the stars as the firefly cruised past them. It had been five years to the day since the seat had been occupied by Wash, Zoe’s husband and Zoban’s father. Five years that were made equally more and less bearable by the presence of their son. A child that looked like the best parts of both of them. A boy with his father’s sense of fun and excitement and his mother’s ability and intelligence. A boy who wondered about his father at this time of year more than any.

Those days were the ones that Zoe couldn’t handle. Wanting to hear stories of how the Browncoats fought the Alliance and lost. Stories of adventures with the crew. This time of year when Zoe didn’t want to think about those things more than ever and Zoban wanted to hear them all the more.

Mal had kindly scooted the boy away from his mother and put him to bed with the Battle of Serenity before he could see her break down and cry.

Five years to the day since they lost Wash.

Hoban Washburn. A Pilot, A Husband, A Friend.

Mal sat with Zoe on the bridge all night. The both of them silent, watching the stars as they past and wondering which one was light in Wash’s memory.


End file.
